


Baby, Don't Be Gentle

by Fudgyokra



Category: Teen Titans - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Barebacking, Dirty Talk, Frottage, Hotel Sex, Humor, Intersex Omegas, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pregnancy Kink, Roy's the omega bc I like beating the status quo with a stick, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Sex, no actual pregnancy involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-15 15:21:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18672340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fudgyokra/pseuds/Fudgyokra
Summary: When a mission runs over its expected length, Dick and Roy find themselves in a predicament of bad timing.For RoyDick Week – Day 7: Incubus!Dick |Omegaverse





	Baby, Don't Be Gentle

**Author's Note:**

> I might be pioneering a path here, or at least taking the road less travelled, but I decided I wanted to write about Roy being an omega. ¯\\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯
> 
> Inspired by [this Tumblr post](http://fishtre.tumblr.com/post/184180950562) (even though it’s JayRoy) because I showed it to a friend and she said, “Roy has childbearing hips.” I couldn’t _not._ Also threw in the breeding kink prompt from earlier in the week for funsies…and because I couldn’t make it on time for day one.
> 
> Title from Jesse McCartney's "Right Where You Want Me."
> 
> Edit: Now comes with a [sequel!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19830373)

When Dick first met Roy, there were some things about him he figured out fast, and a few things he just assumed in order to fill gaps between facts he already knew. Apparently, in the course of that, he’d gotten a couple things very wrong.

He tries not to judge a book by its cover as often as it’s reasonable in his line of work, but he likes to think he’s fairly good at it, considering who raised him. Roy is tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, and dresses like he’s about to pull up at the sort of family barbecue where one might find squirrel on the grill. A dead ringer for what biology books had preached to a red-faced preteen Dick for years, including all the proper mannerisms and the way he holds himself as he nocks his bow and grins back at Dick like he knows he’s staring. He always is, damn it.

That was precisely why, two years later, as Dick turns eighteen mere months behind Roy’s nineteen, things come abruptly and alarmingly into focus to be righted from their previous misconceptions.

It’s just the two of them out on recon for more days than Dick has packed for, and obviously Roy shares the sentiment, because he’s bitching about the mission taking too long and how he hadn’t brought the proper tools and this and that and so forth. Dick tells him he probably has anything Roy could possibly need, and, hey, on the off chance he doesn’t, the hotel they’re staying at probably does. But no, of course not. Dick’s life could never be so simple.

He doesn’t know how he never noticed before now.

Clearly irritated, Roy runs both gloved hands through his hair and grabs it in two handfuls. Dick is on the cusp of making a joke about the concierge bringing him an emergency ponytail holder when he spots the flesh-colored patch smoothed onto the skin just beneath his friend’s ear, and the instant Roy’s eyes land on the lenses of Dick’s domino mask they go wide. He drops his hair, letting it fall in waves back around his ears, and his face turns absurdly, wondrously crimson.

Before Dick can help it, he’s forcing out the words almost faster than he can think them: “Are those scent blockers?” He knows he sounds astonished, because Roy’s lips rescind in a snarl of warning. As a gesture of peace-keeping, not that it ever works with him, Dick holds up his hands, palms facing outward. “I don’t mean anything by it. I just—I always assumed you were an alpha.”

“Good,” Roy snaps as he picks up his suitcase and drops it to the floor with a loud _whump_ noise. “You’re gonna keep treating me the same way, and you’re not gonna tell the rest of the team.”

“I don’t think it’s—”

“Bite me.”

All right, then. Dick guesses there won’t be any more words on the matter, but, in a testament to how badly fate wanted to hand his own ass to him, he discovers hours later, when the curtains are drawn to keep out the glow from the streetlamps, that he’s wrong yet again.

He’s asleep when it happens. At least he was before the hazy fringes of the dream he’d finally drifted into were obliterated by the sound of a soft, distant moan. At first, he doesn’t know how he picked up on it; his hearing was good and his sleeping light, but it wasn’t normally so easily disturbed as to let a barely-audible voice ruin it.

The answer comes with frightening clarity when the smell hits, sweet and caramel-like, making his mouth water on impetus and his body seize with an uncontrollable wave of hormones. Suddenly, the room feels hot. _Way_ too hot. Dick wants to kick the covers off and pant, maybe even crank the air conditioning higher so it was more comfortable to—to what? All his thoughts keep losing their momentum, phasing out right when they’re beginning to make some semblance of sense.

From the other bed, there’s another quiet, shivery moan, and a shifting beneath the covers that could only be Roy tossing and turning in the midst of his damn _heat._

When Dick imagined what it might be like to find out his teammate and close friend had been hiding their biological designation, he hadn’t considered the possibility of immediate consequence. In any other circumstances he would have just nodded and moved on, dismissing the subject as unimportant, but when several hours’ worth of broiling pheromones hits an alpha all at once, there’s only one natural reaction, and it isn’t optional.

His nostrils flare as he pushes himself up to sit and swivels his head toward the squirming lump of blankets on the other side of the room. “Roy,” he hisses, scared of what might happen if he lets his voice rise too high. Growling now would only make everyone’s predicament worse and, boy, was it bad enough already.

Dick was getting hard in his sleep shorts, hips rolling upward in tight circles as his body worked against his fading logic center to try and seek out friction. “Roy,” he tries again. He’s getting desperate.

Just when he was about to slink out of bed and high-tail it out of their room, possibly even the whole hotel, Roy jerks out of his squirming fit and shoots to a sitting position as well, accompanied by a gasp that told Dick he hadn’t even been awake until now. A pause, a shaky exhalation, and then, with a tight voice: “Oh, _fuck_ me.”

Dick knows what a figure of speech is. Really, he does. But hearing those words come from Roy’s mouth hits him hard in this state, with a blow like a crack of lighting through his entire body. His hips roll up again without his say-so as if running on autopilot, and the next mistake he makes is groaning in frustration at the movement.

Roy’s eyes, wide and visible even in the dark, flicker to the rather obvious tent beneath Dick’s blanket and then back to his face, where he reassembles his own into a poor recreation of an alpha’s snarl. “Don’t—” he grunts, but that’s as far as he gets before he catches his lower lip between his teeth and whines.

Instincts were troublesome enough to Dick even when they weren’t being torn right out of him in feral display, and so stopping himself from flinging the covers off his legs to climb on top of Roy didn’t seem like a viable option, even to someone as typically good at repressing basic urges as he was.

The worst part is that he’d thought about this before. Not nearly so abrupt or so hormone-addled, but a fantasy he entertained nonetheless. In spite of the odd argument they had and the general disdain for people that Roy boasted, Dick always privately wondered if he’d allow his defenses to slip, let himself be touched and explored and unraveled by Dick’s hands.

Of course, there are a couple key differences he’d been made painfully aware of since he’d last thought about this, but that hardly mattered to him now. Or perhaps it was all that mattered. He can’t tell, because all he knows for certain is that he wants to ease the pressure between his legs more than he even wants to breathe. It seems awful to think of it that way, but when he pushes Roy down into the sheets again, there isn’t a hint of hesitation or resistance, and when he kisses him, Roy kisses back.

Dick has never tripped into a rut like this before, but he wonders, while his brain briefly comes back online at the sensation of a tongue pressing into his mouth, if kissing has always felt this good or if it’s just the fact he’s thinking with his dick right now. There’s no time to consider it further when Roy’s hands come up and literally claw Dick’s pants down his hips, leaving faint pink scratch marks that encourage goosebumps to form along his arms. There is also no time to consider how good or bad an idea this is before he moves on to the shirt next, lifting and fumbling and eventually settling on ripping it straight down the middle with a sound that lights up every pleasant sensation in Dick’s body he thinks he’s ever been meant to feel.

He moans into the too-hot air between their mouths, encouraging Roy to claw more lines down his chest until he was satisfied, tipping his head to admire them.

The scent blockers are gone, which must have happened before they climbed into their respective beds earlier in the night, but now that he sees the bare skin of his scent glands, Dick can’t stop himself from nuzzling into the crook of his neck and breathing him in deep. Roy makes the smallest _oh_ sound at the contact. It makes Dick’s teeth ache, the desire to bite and mark stronger than anything he’s felt so far. In the back of his mind, though, he knows it’s a bad idea. Can’t think of why, but he follows his gut on that one and instead offers a safe, experimental swipe of his tongue.

This time, Roy moans, head tipping aside further to bare more skin, unmarked but for the spray of freckles that Dick is getting more and more desperate to sink his canines into. He wisely moves back, meeting Roy’s pupil-blown gaze with a look that must be awfully similar on his own face, because he’s treated to a short, clipped keen, and then Roy’s eyes drop in automatic surrender to something Dick is not even sure he possesses.

He realizes an omega’s instinct is to defer, to placate, to please an alpha, but Roy’s never been that way. Dick has seen him square off with Oliver, with Diana, and even with Bruce, and no amount of mighty posturing has ever made him lower his gaze like this. Blearily, he manages to say, in a voice that sounds entirely too gravelly to be his own, “Is this okay?”

A sudden squeeze of a hand on the base of his cock makes him growl, and also answers the question pretty well, he supposes.

The second he drags the covers off Roy’s legs, the tent in his obnoxiously-patterned boxers twitches visibly. Dick’s happy to see the offensive clothing article hit the floor, but he’s far happier to press the heel of his palm to the bare skin of Roy’s cock, fingers aiming down and covering his slit. For a second, he does nothing but feel the heat radiating from it, the slick already beginning to stain the sheets beneath.

“Shit,” he curses, hiding his face in the crook of Roy’s neck again. “I—I don’t have…” The fog in his brain makes it awfully difficult to speak, but he manages to remember where he’s going with this. “Condoms.”

Roy grinds his hips down until Dick crooks his fingertips inside him and sighs deeply, pleasantly. “Don’t care,” he answers in an endearingly breathless kind of way. Dick pulls back in time to see him grimace, which means he’s definitely trying to think about actual consequences and failing to consolidate the benefits with the risks. When he gives up, it’s with a visible rolling of his eyes back into his skull and a desperately choked, “Breed me, don’t care.”

What might normally be a somewhat horrifying request suddenly makes Dick’s skin prickle all over, and it’s not three seconds later that he’s holding himself by the base, curling the fingers of his free hand around what he can cover of Roy’s thigh while he prods at his dripping cunt.

“Fuck you,” Roy huffs, wiggling his hips to try and push onto him properly. “You’re too goddamned slow.”

Dick doesn’t know where it comes from, honest, but he growls again and says, “You want my knot that bad, huh?” Instead of pushing in, he smacks the head down against him a couple of times, feeling perfectly filthy for it. Then, ignoring Roy’s protests, given though gritted teeth, he rubs the full length of himself along the lips, feeling the slick coating him with each lazy thrust.

Everything he smells or touches or tastes is that mouth-watering caramel flavor, and he wants it badly. Wants to be inside him, wants to make him scream, but something keeps him from doing so, at least until he gets what he wants. He’s not sure what that is yet, to be honest.

Roy rocks his hips in time with Dick’s thrusts, but without the actual penetration, every slide ghosts over his cock, making him squirm and pant with the overwhelming feel of it. It’s obvious he’s ready for more, and the possessiveness inside Dick makes his teeth ache again at the sight of him falling apart from barely anything.

“I think it’s cute you want to have my pups,” he half sighs out, rutting against him like a dog in heat. Roy’s hands claw at his hips, but Dick doesn’t give him what he wants. “You’d look good like that, you know. All round and swollen with them…”

Roy tosses his head to the side against his pillow and moans, eyes squeezing closed against the obvious desire to shut Dick up mingling with the satisfaction of being stimulated. “Too proud to ask me to breed you?” he keeps on, enjoying the fierce flush instating itself on Roy’s face.

Ignoring the fact he actually _had_ asked that, Roy gives another choked noise of pleasure when Dick rolls his hips down in one long, languid stroke, and says, “Good luck paying child support, asshole.”

Dick huffs out a laugh, and Roy even grins a little deliriously at the sound. At least he’s still in there, somewhere. Coherent enough to crack jokes at Dick’s mindlessly poor sex talk.

“Is that a yes?” he teases. He really enjoys the grin breaking off into a little ‘o’ of wonder when Roy moans at the fingers that slide easily inside him, barely a stretch for how primed he is. It’d be something to rib him about later, when Dick wasn’t practically bloodthirsty for it, too. “Tell me yes, Roy. You want me to knot you over and over ‘til you’re _dripping_ my cum. Wanna be stuffed full of it. Leave no chances, eh? I bet you’re begging to play mommy for me, aren’t you, little omega?”

Roy moans, pitching upward at the end in a warning for how close to the edge he was getting. “After—after this,” he pants, “remind me to kill you—” he pauses, brows furrowing at a brief shudder— “bastard.”

“You have a nastier mouth than usual today.”

“Fuck me, dammit. Jesus Christ what do I have to do to—”

At precisely the right moment in Roy’s manic begging, Dick chooses to shove his cock in, all the way inside in one stroke, to the tune of a shouted “ _Yes!_ ” that drags another growl from somewhere deep down in his chest.

He bends over him, both hands digging hard into the pillow, and lets go of all prior inhibitions in one delicious rush of satisfaction. Each thrust pushes him dangerously close to spilling over, but with the way Roy’s walls tighten around him, he’s sure he isn’t the only one. Dick knows they both feel it: The swell of his knot catching on the rim with every go, presence unmistakable.

True to form, Roy spreads his legs a little wider and rocks down against him that much more desperately. In the thick of it, he curls his fingers around himself and follows the rhythm of their fucking with a loose grip, but each touch is too intense, going by the wince and huff of breath at every stroke. But there’s a sound there, too, cresting over into whimpers as he tightens all over, racing toward finishing with a series of desperate sounds that make Dick cave.

He sinks his teeth into Roy’s chest instead of his neck to sate the urge, listens to him howl and beg when he forces his knot inside and cums, coating his already slick walls. Pumping him full until he, too, releases in a messy series of stripes across his stomach and chest. When his muscles relax, Dick slides in the barest bit deeper, and both of them groan softly at the feeling.

There’s going to be a lot of explaining to do to the rest of the team later, but Dick decides it isn’t such a bad idea to invest in a box of condoms and wait the rest of the week out in their comfortable hotel room. When he shares the thought, Roy snorts and mumbles sleepily, “I have some.”

He pauses in the midst of his repositioning them to a comfortable sleeping position. “You what?”

Roy’s flush darkens, but his grin is toothy and so very familiar that something in Dick’s chest jumps. “I have condoms. You know, in case ‘sharing a room in a nondescript location away from our friends’ ever turned out to be a viable honeymoon scenario.”

“You had condoms,” Dick repeats flatly, “for if we wanted to bang.”

“In case you were wondering, _no_ I did not expect to start my fuckin’ heat. I thought we’d be back by now.”

“But you had condoms.”

Roy snorts again. “Yeah.”

“And you let me cum inside you anyway.”

The grin turns into a gentler version of a scowl. Must have been all Roy was capable of right then. “I told you I didn’t care.”

Dick chuckles mischievously, nosing against the back of Roy’s neck now that he could comfortably curl around him. “Oh, no, you aren’t running away from this one. You _like_ the idea of me knocking you up.”

“Don’t—don’t say that,” Roy sputters, reaching back to smack him. “Jesus, you’re filthy. I just like the way it feels.” The words stir the warmth in Dick’s gut way too soon for comfort, prompting him to groan pathetically into Roy’s hair. That earns him a snicker, but by then they’re both too tired to continue their banter any longer.

They have plenty of time to discuss it later, anyway.


End file.
